


A Visit

by Maybe_Maybe_Not



Category: 19th Century CE RPF, Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Eliza loves him, F/M, Sadness, he loves her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 19:15:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17834531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maybe_Maybe_Not/pseuds/Maybe_Maybe_Not
Summary: It was January 11th, 1833. His birthday.





	A Visit

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I posted. I hope you all enjoy this. 
> 
> I didnt edit it much so full send it 
> 
> Tumblr- @maybe---not

It was January 11th, 1833. It was his birthday.

Eliza was on her usual, annual walk on this day, one that got harder every year. The children had fussed over her since she was at a delicate age. They sound like their father, who would be seventy-five today, whenever she was under the weather. Even though it is his birthday and a terrible thought to think, she doubts he would have made it to this age. Her dear love had the worst of illnesses, his kidneys were failing and she was told that it was a surprise that he had made it thus far already. She had always thought he would always make it through the night, until the one time he did not. Eliza would always be surprised it was not by natural causes, the way her love died.

The snow crunched under her feet as she turned the corner to Trinity Church. There are some peaks of dead grass poking out of the piled on snow that was falling rapidly from the sky. It fell upon her shoulders, the white contrasting against her dark dress and cloak. It reminded her of stars on a summer night. From her days as a little girl, dreaming of what he life would be. She would never imagine this would be her life. Eliza carried flowers with her as well, roses. She had no doubt that they would be frozen by the next morning, but that meant that it would last longer. The petals would not wilt.

As she got closer to her beloved's grave, all she could think was him. How she missed him, how his babies missed him, how they cried and still cry for him at the most special of times. All she can feel is the strong pang in her heart, her chest getting tighter, and tears stinging her eyes. Eliza can only help but think about how the whole family went to his grave, on the one year anniversary of his death.

Eliza had brought all of the babies with her, well, her now eldest son did. She still moved through life slowly, every moment of that first year tough on her. The smallest of things would make her weep until she was shaking. The simple vision of him, his voice in her ear, asking her to help him, save him from the pain. His whimpers, coughs, groans. That is all she could ever hear. 

Eliza put on a facade of herself for the babies, though hearing him dying, she also heard him asking her to be strong for their family. So she tried. All of the babies were sitting around his grave, all crying, except for Little Phil. He did not understand why everyone was so upset- it made the toddler incredibly fussy and want comfort. The older comforted the younger while Eliza sat blanked faced, emotionless in the way that only sadness was known on her face. Sometimes, in these moments, she could barely comprehend why her dear Hamilton was forced to leave this world. Eliza, deep down, did not want to understand, it meant that she accepted his death. She did not want to accept such a horrible thing that made her and her babies shed so many tears. 

Now, she questions, how many of those tears she shed, were from all the hardship that the first year brought on versus how many were for her husband. She determines that it did not matter, that they all came from the same idea, her sweet darling was dead. 

Eliza set down the roses against the headstone that was once in prime condition. One that bloomed with flowers and letters of condolences, crosses for her husband from almost everyone in the city. Friend or Foe. She wishes that he could know how much everyone loved him. The headstone now was slightly deteriorated and there were only some flowers there, withered, it fit the theme of the evening. It was all gloomy, gray and slow. She always hated those types of days after his death, there was just something taunting about the sky like it wanted something bad to happen. Her roses, however, bright red against the gray of the world, brightened the earth. They brought her comfort. She took the dead flowers and tucked them into her cloak, then stared at the headstone, reading the words that described her husband in an everlasting way. It captured his spirit perfectly.

The patriot of incorruptible integrity, the soldier of approved valor, the statesman of consummate wisdom, whose talents and virtues who would be admired long after she was dead, long after the headstone would be dust. Her dear sweet husband. 

Eliza would never stop until he was remembered, until there was more of him in the world, so their great grandchildren would know of him. So they would feel like they knew their great grandfather. 

A tear slipped down her cheek as she stroked the headstone gently. "I will be with you. Until then we both must be strong...for each other." 

Later that night, she would smile at how silly she sounded, speaking of him as if he was leaving to go on a trip. 

Eliza would hear his laugh in her mind, or in her dear children, not cry, but smile that even though he was gone, she had him. Wherever she went, around her heart, Eliza had her Hamilton's love. 

Two decades and about one year after that visit, they would be reunited. Her love would be able to tell her that he was there, that he cried, hugged, and whispered how much he loved her in her ear. How he was sorry for his burdens on her. Eliza would simply hush him, take his hands, and tell him everything was okay.


End file.
